


Guy Stuff: Part Two

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-10-06 20:50:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10344294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: SPOILERS: AscensionSomeone’s out for revenge. What’s not to love?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Guy Stuff: Part Two

##  Guy Stuff: Part Two

##### Written by Pough   
Comments? Write to us at [jgross1@peoplepc.com](mailto:jgross1@peoplepc.com)

  * SPOILERS: Ascension 
  * SUMMARY: Someone's out for revenge. What's not to love? 
  * PG-13, humor, loud singing and bodily functions, jello-stains and disinfectants, Daniel hung over and cranky. 



* * *

Teal'c grabbed the dashboard frantically as they careened around the corner.   

Tires squealed against the asphalt surface.  The truck finished its turn and wobbled from side to side as Sam pressed the accelerator into the straight away.

"Is this rate of speed prudent, Major Carter?" Teal'c asked, grasping the handle above the door.

Sam glared at him.   "It's fine."

Jack pulled himself toward the front of the cab, pulled himself against the G-forces Sam was creating by her maniacal cruise through the innocent streets of Colorado Springs.   "If you ask me..." 

"Nobody asked you," Sam snapped at him.  "I didn't ask for your opinion.  Teal'c didn't ask.  God knows, Daniel doesn't care."

Jack nodded, clutching the back of Sam's seat.  "I just think you should slow down."

"You move too fast!" Daniel sang out.  Jack stared at him, shocked that Daniel was conscious, much less able to perform Simon and Garfunkel songs.  Daniel waved his hands through the air from his prostrate position in the back of the cab.  "You've got to make the morning last, just...KICKin' dooooooown the cobblestones...Lookin' for fun and feelin'..."

"Don't hit that note, Daniel," Jack implored.

"Grooooooveeeey!"   Daniel intoned, a full octave above the actual note.

Sam reached back and took a swipe at Daniel.  "Too loud, Daniel.  Pipe down!"

Jack peeled his hands away from his ears.  "Dammit, Daniel..."

"I love you!" Daniel sang. "Oh, the river was wide, but I swam it (Janet)   If there's one fool for you, then I am it (Janet)..."

"Okay, that's enough," Jack ordered, pushing Daniel's feet out of his lap.   Daniel slowly followed the weight of his legs to the floor of the truck and splashed into the puddle of merriment that he had offered unto Sam's truck when she first picked them up.

Jack whimpered--Daniel was still wearing Jack's coat.

"Sam?" Daniel slurred.  "Um, honey, I think you spilled something back here."

Sam plunked her elbow down on the car's window ledge and dropped her head into her hand.   "Shut up, Daniel."   

Seeing the stop sign just up ahead, Sam took what she felt was appropriate action--she sped up in order get the full effect of her anti-lock breaks.

"MajorCarter.   I believe there is a..."

"Uh, not that I'm concerned or anything, but, Sam..."

Sam punched the brakes, and both men were thrown head-long.  

Daniel rolled forward.

"Come on, Major!" Jack barked, pushing himself free from the back of Sam's seat.

Teal'c removed his cowboy hat from over his eyes.

Sam threw the truck in park, turned caustically to address her companions.  "Here's the deal:  You drag me out of my house to come pick you guys up from some drunken debacle in the middle of the night in a section of town even **I** wouldn't be caught dead, and then you let Daniel puke in my new truck, and now you're complaining about the way I'm driving?!  I don't think so!!"

Jack rubbed the side of his head and said, "I don't know if I'd call it complaining.   More like..." he sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth, "...afraid for our lives."

Sam stared angrily at Jack.  She swiveled quickly in her seat, yanked the truck out of park, and rocketed the truck forward down the street.

Daniel rolled backwards.

Jack's feet flailed helplessly in the air as he tried to right himself in his seat.   "For crying out loud, Carter!   Stop!!"

"In da naaaaaaame of wuv," came the muffled voice from the floor of the truck.

"Shut up, Daniel," Sam and Jack yelled.

"'Kay," Daniel said in a lilting voice.

Sam grasped the wheel with both hands.  She hunched her shoulders up about her ears and practically shook the quarter-ton truck with her anger.

Jack wrapped his arms around his waist and shivered against the damp night air.   He leaned toward the center of the truck, hoping to catch any heat from the console vents.  Jack had given Daniel his jacket after they escaped Jello Hell, and now he truly regretted that exchange.  He looked at Teal'c, warm in his leather-fringed jacket.  He looked at Sam, comfy in her fleece coat.   He looked at Daniel, oblivious to the temperature in his puddle of vomit.  Jack almost cried thinking about his favorite parka having to endure the torture of being the only shield between Daniel and disgust.  Jack sniffled, turned his eyes to the heavens and decided he had suffered enough.

"I could use some warmth," he called.

"We could all use a little compassion, sir, but you should have thought of that when you dragged my ass out of bed," Sam called back.  

"No, Sam, I mean heat.  I'm cold.   I could use some..."

Suddenly Jack found he was bonding with the back of Sam's seat again.

Daniel rolled forward.

"Look," she snapped, whipping the truck into park,  "there is no way in hell I'm turning heat on in the truck, not with vomit-boy's lovely stench back there."

"You keep driving like this, and I might just add to the aroma," Jack told her.

"And another thing--as soon as we get to your house, you and Teal'c are going to clean up this mess," she told her CO.  "I'll put Daniel to bed."

"Now wait just a minute!" Jack interrupted.  "This whole night wasn't even my idea!   Teal'c's the one who wanted to go!"

"I merely mentioned that I was aware of a place where humans do battle in a ring of jello.   You were, in fact, the one who decided we should go," Teal'c said, turning his face unabashedly to the front of the truck.

"Okay, you can stop the 'I'm just a poor alien who doesn't understand your ways, Tau'ri' act.   You're not fooling anyone, Bubba!" Jack yelled, kicking the back of his seat.

"Colonel?!   Whose truck is this?" Sam demanded.

"But I believe you were the one who suggested DanielJackson should join us," Teal'c added, dispassionately.

"Yeah, well, so..." Jack stammered.  Daniel grabbed Jack's knee to sit up.  Jack pushed it off.  Daniel slid back to the floor.  "How was I supposed to know he was an easy drunk?"

"I believe that is common knowledge, O'Neill," Teal'c reminded him.

Jack grimaced and threw his hands into the air.  "Yeah, but, okay...How was I supposed to know he had a weak stomach?"

"I believe that, too, is..."

"Oh, and now you know everything?" Jack scornfully asked him.  "What's it gonna be, Teal'c?  'Oh, oh!  I'm so confused by your alien customs'," Jack sardonically mimicked, "or is it 'Hey there, Bambi.  Perhaps you would be interested in perusing my staff weapon'?"

"That's it!   One more word out of either of you and you walk the rest of the way home!  Am I making myself clear?!" Sam shouted.  

"Gees, Carter.   You don't have to get all testy about it," Jack mumbled.

"Testes," Daniel giggled.

"I said, do I make myself clear?!" Sam barked.

"Indeed," Teal'c hissed.

"Wait a minute!" Jack bellowed.  "I'm the ranking officer!  I'm the one who gives the orders!"

Sam opened the door to the truck, sending a renewed plume of frigid air into the back of the cab.

"Yes, Sam...Carter...Major Sam...Major Carter..." Jack tripped.

"Good," Sam said, slamming the door shut.  She abusively tore at the gear shift.  Her tires screamed.  Jack's head cracked against the back window.  He didn't complain.

Daniel rolled backwards.

"We'll be at your house, Colonel, in five minutes.  I want my truck disinfected in ten.  And then I'm taking off.  Got it?"

"Without O'Neill's truck, he will be unable to take me back to the SGC.   Perhaps you would be so kind, Samantha, as to..."

"You're staying with the colonel," Sam told him in short, clipped syllables.

Teal'c raised one eyebrow.  "Of course."

Jack knew better than to protest.  He sulked, rubbing his arms, blowing clouds of his own breath into the air.  A thought swam into his alcohol-soaked head.

"You know, Teal'c brings up a good point," Jack said, waggling a finger in the air.   "My truck is back there.   How am I supposed to get it in the morning if I don't have my...truck to go get...my truck?"

"That's not my problem, sir," Sam snipped.  

Teal'c saw the curve in the road approaching and braced himself with his feet against the firewall and his hands against the dash.

Daniel was unprepared, and, as they went into the curve, the centrifugal force caused him to sit straight up.

"Hi, Jack," he slurred, smiling.

Sam straightened out the truck, and Jack watched Daniel plop back down.  

"Bye, Jack."

*****

"You have ten minutes, sir," Sam angrily informed her CO, standing next to the passenger side of the truck.

"Yes, Carter.   I know," Jack replied, untangling himself from the front seatbelts.  "Ready, Bubba?"

"I must renew my objection..."

"Aht!   Don't start with me, Teal'c!" Jack warned him.  

Sam stood with her hands on her hips, watching Daniel apparently doing the Hustle on the floor of her truck.  "Daniel?   You wanna get out of there?"

Daniel rolled his eyes back to see Sam.  "Hey, Sam!   Sam, why are you upside down?"

Sam grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out, which seemed to be a good idea at the time, but because it was Jack's jacket and because Jack had a propensity for wearing jackets that were soupy even on him, the sullied jacket emerged from the truck sans the sullied Daniel.  Sam threw the coat to the ground.

"Dammit, Major!" Jack growled in a whisper.  He looked nervously over at his neighbor's house.  "That's my favorite coat!"

Sam ignored him.   She glared at Daniel.   "Well?  Are you getting out, or do you need some help?"

"I need somebody!   Help!  No, not just anybody!  Help, I need someone, HEEEEEEELP!" Daniel rocked out.

Sam reached under his shoulders, through his arms, and took hold of his wrists.   "Let's go, Ringo," she said, dragging him out of the truck.

Daniel began to laugh.   "Don't be silly, Sam.   I'm not Ringo.   I'm George!" he told her, letting his heels hit the ground.

"Whatever.   Stand up," Sam ordered, up righting Daniel.  She noticed the grotesque red blotches covering his bare back and became instantly concerned.   "Colonel?   Um, I think you should see this."   She carefully examined Daniel's other injuries.

Jack rounded the side of the truck, looked at Daniel and lethargically nodded.   "Jello stains."  Sam stared slack-jawed at him.  Jack paused a moment to consider other possibilities.   "Or, you know, maybe they are bruises.  Those women were pretty rough with him."

"Excuse me?" Sam said, incredulously.

"They were indeed formidable," Teal'c agreed.  "DanielJackson, however, was victorious in his battle."

"Daniel was fighting women?" Sam asked.

Jack threw his hands up in exasperation.  "In a ring of _jello_!   For crying out loud, Carter, don't you even listen to us?" Jack asked, gesticulating boldly.

Sam's head began to pound.  "You owe me..."

"Yeah, yeah.   I owe you soooo big.   I got it," Jack sarcastically replied.  He began to search through his garage for disinfectant, a bucket and two sponges.

Sam steadied Daniel as the drunken Ph.D tip-toed across the driveway.  

"Shhhhh," Daniel motioned, his finger to his ear, his arm wrapped around Sam's shoulders.   "Be vewy, vewy quiet.   We'we hunting Wa."   He dissolved in a fit of giggles.   Sam rolled her eyes as Daniel dribbled down her side onto the ground.

"Major Carter, perhaps I can be of assistance," Teal'c offered, tipping his hat.

"Yeah, why not," Sam conceded.  They each took one of Daniel's arms.  Daniel ran his hands between their elbows and interlocked his hands in front of himself.

"Let's pretend I'm a combination lock," he mused.

Sam and Teal'c shared a look of frustration and dragged the human lock into Jack's house.

Aware that he had been left to clean up Daniel's mess alone, Jack stepped onto the running board and pulled himself above the cab.  "I'm not doin' this by myself, Bubba!" Jack yelled.   "Bubba?...T?"

*****

Daniel's body bounced before coming to an inebriated heap, face-down on the bed.

"I think I've got it from here, Teal'c," Sam said, wiping Daniel's sodden kisses from her cheek.

"Are you certain?" Teal'c asked, wiping his own cheek.

Sam looked at the prone figure, arms bent awkwardly at his side, his hair sticking up in dangerously sharp spikes.  Daniel's pink socks, once white, Sam was almost certain, hung sloppily from his feet.   "Yeah, I think he's fairly harmless.  I'll just..."

"Oh, my God!" Daniel screamed.  Sam jumped back.   Daniel rolled over onto his back.   "Do you guys remember Hathor?"   

"We do, DanielJackson."

"She was...Okay, hear me out," Daniel said, crossing his arms over his bare chest, his right leg over his left knee.  "What if we were to give her a different option?  You know, show her the errors of her ways."

"Daniel, what the **hell** are you talking about?" Sam asked, rubbing her temples.

"All's I'm saying is shouldn't we at least offer her a choice?  Isn't it our moral obli...obli...That's a really long word, isn't it?" Daniel stated.

"What are you suggesting, DanielJackson?" Teal'c asked, irritated and dubious.

"This may sound a little..." Daniel wiggled his fingers near his head and made an ethereal, high-pitched noise, "but what if we get her a job at 'Cool and Refreshing'?  I mean, think about it!  She would rule!"   Daniel's eyes spun in their sockets with thoughts of her dominance amidst the gelatin set.

"Okay, Daniel?   Two problems with your plan: One--she's dead," Sam told him.

"I think I can take her,"  Daniel dreamed.

"And two--she's...a...Goooooooooo'uld," Sam reminded him.

"I know!   That means she could bring her own costumes," Daniel said, most sincerely.

"Okay, time for a shower," Sam decided.  Then Sam realized the only thing between Daniel and cleanliness were his pants and--she prayed-- a pair of boxers.  She cautiously   moved to unzip his pants, thought better of it, and grimaced.

"Gee, this is somewhat awkward," Sam said, nervously smiling.  She stepped back and put her hands in her back pockets.   "Um, Teal'c?   You want to...maybe..."

Teal'c glanced at Sam and then at Daniel.  "DanielJackson!  Round two is about to begin!  You must relinquish your trousers!"

With lightning efficiency which should have been beyond his drunken ability, Daniel tore off his red-splotched khakis, throwing them blindly over his shoulder.   He stood, battle ready, on top of the bed.   

Sam whipped her hand to her face and modestly shielded her eyes.  "Oh, my God!  Daniel!   Daniel, are you...?"   She gathered her nerve and took a furtive peak between her fingers to see what, if anything, he was wearing.   Upon seeing the silver Speedo with the word "Jello" proudly displayed across the front, Sam dropped her hands to her side.  "What the hell is that?"

Daniel doubled over to investigate.  "Someone wrote Jello upside down on my favorite bathing suit," he said before sailing head-first into the bed.

"I don't know what's worse--seeing Daniel half-naked, or knowing he owns a silver Speedo," Sam said.

"I own one, as well," Teal'c offered, exiting the room.

Sam ground her fists into her eyes.  "I hate these people."

"People.   People who need...people," Daniel began.   "Are the luuuuuuu....."

Sam cocked her head to one side and watched Daniel's big vowel turn into a big yawn which turned into big sleep.

"Daniel?"   she softly called.   "Daniel, you awake?"  Her answer came in the form of a grating snore.   She pulled the corner of the comforter over his body and turned off the light.

"I think my job here is done," she said, closing the door behind her.

*****

"Daniel?   Daniel?"

The name sounded familiar.  Even the voice registered a certain familiarity.

"Daniel?"

He just couldn't place the...

"Wake up, dammit!" Jack barked, throwing the comforter off Daniel.

Ah, yes...

"Jack," Daniel groaned, washing over his face with grimy hands.   He couldn't open his eyes.  His eyelashes were adhered to each other with a sticky crust.   "God, I think I have conjunctivitis."

"Pink eye?" Jack asked, taking a side-long glance at his face.  "Try pink jello."

Daniel breathed a sigh of relief.  That is until he felt his head pounding out a relentless rhythm of whomp whomp whomp...

"Say, Jack, you wouldn't happen to have a ball-peen hammer lying around, would you?" Daniel asked, trying to press the front of his skull and the back of his skull together.

"For what?" Jack asked, throwing a towel on the bed next to Daniel.

"I thought if I could, you know, slam it into my head a few times it might be a nice distraction," Daniel theorized. 

"Come on.   Get up," Jack ordered, kicking the side of the bed.

"No.   No.  I think a better idea would be to...um, die at this point.   Yes, I'm fairly sure you'll find that in the rule book," Daniel quipped, pulling at the comforter.

Jack flashed the light on and off repeatedly.  Daniel cowered from the searing pain.

"God, Jack!   Is that really necessary?" Daniel asked, his hands pressed hard against his eyes.. 

"Absolutely not.   And therein lies the joy of it," Jack told him, increasing the speed with which he administered the torture.   "I put some clothes in the bathroom.   Shower and change.   Let's go," Jack demanded.  "We have a mission--my truck and your clothes."

"Fine," Daniel testily answered back, pouring himself out of bed.

Jack watched him slowly, painfully gain his footing.   "Oh, and Daniel?"

"What?" he growled.

"A word to the wise:  I'd soak before trying to get that...thing off.  Unless, of course, you're in the market for a new hair-removal system," Jack told him, pointing to the form-fitting brief.

Daniel looked down, began to whimper, and waved a thank you to Jack.   

Hunched over, holding his head with one hand, and reaching blindly in front of him with the other, Daniel inched his way to the bathroom.

The cold tiles against his feet sent shock waves of unwanted sensation up through his body.   He gasped for air, reached for the sink, and found merciful relief by standing on Jack's copy of "Field and Stream."

"Aaaaa!" he moaned.

Jack creased his brow and turned slightly toward the bathroom door.

"Daniel?   You all right?"

"Oh, I suppose.   Probably nothing more than a little inter-cranial hemorrhage.  But, yeah, I should be...Oh, God," Daniel groaned from behind the door.

Jack rolled his eyes.   "For crying out loud, Daniel.   You're just a little hung over.   Be a man!"

Daniel pried open his eyes and looked at his bleary reflection in the mirror.   Hair that Sid Vicious would have bowed down to awaited Daniel's sight.  Blotches in the shape of drunken lips bruised his cheeks.  His skin radiated a healthy glow of strawberry-banana pink.

"Be a man, you say?" Daniel asked, pulling globules from spiked strands of hair.   "Have you seen my new 'do?   It's looking absolutely masculine with all this--well, with what I can only hope is jello in it.   Hope.  Pray.   Pray and hope to all that's merciful in this and any other..."  Suddenly a face appeared in his mind.  A face with a very loud, very angry voice.  "Jack?"

"Yeeeees, Daniel," Jack answered, banging his head against the door jamb.

"Did we at some point run into Sam last night?" Daniel anxiously asked, flattening out his hair, watching it poof back to attention.

"As a matter of fact, we did," Jack told him.  The sound of miserable retching echoed from the bathroom.  Jack waited until the simpering and gacking stopped.   He knocked quietly on the door.   "You okay in there?"

"Oh, well...either I have massive internal bleeding or I ingested a small country's allotment of red dye," Daniel reported, hugging the cool porcelain surface.

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.  "Look, Daniel, take a shower and get dressed.   I'll make some eggs..."

The sounds that arose from the resonating toilet bowl were nothing short of the morning after the kegger after the homecoming game at the Delta House.  Only the wailing was multi-lingual.  And from one man.  

Jack winced.   "Probably shouldn't have said the e-word, huh?"

"What gives you that idea?" Daniel mewled.  He crawled into the shower, sat against the wall, reached above him and turned the nozzle.  

Lovely warm water, soft and soothing, rained down on Daniel.  Well, on his feet.  He reached out a hand, spritzed his face and decided to take desperate actions.   "God, I hope Jack's cleaned this shower lately," he said, curling himself into a fetal position in the center of the shower stall.  "I think Verdi said it best--'Let death now take me'..."  He reached for the waistband of the Speedo and began to push it down his hips.

"Aaargh!!!   More soaking!   Soaking.  Yes, we're soaking," he cried out in pain and let the water dissolve some of the jello that had found a home in his Speedo, and had, apparently, bonded with the other residents.  Intimately.

*****

"You owe me thirteen-hundred and eighty dollars," Jack said, resting a cup of coffee in front of Daniel's chair.

Daniel shuffled to the seat, and, with the care one usually reserves for Faberge Eggs, gingerly lowered himself into the chair.  "This ought to be good," he groaned.  He wrapped his hands around the steaming cup and placed his face in line with its divine steam.

"Two-fifty for the coat; thirty for my hat; eleven-hundred for a plane ticket to Scandinavia to buy a new one," Jack told him, laying a plate of toast in front of Daniel.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Daniel said, pushing the toast away.   "And here's the best part--I don't care."

"Buck up, little camper.  It's gonna be a great day once we figure out a way of getting your clothes and my truck back," Jack told him.

Daniel took a sip of his coffee and let the bitter liquid rinse away the acid that burned at the back of his throat.  Through the nausea, Daniel remembered starting the evening with one other cohort--Teal'c.   "Hey, Jack?   Where's Teal'c?"

"An airman came to pick him up early this morning.  He pulled the 'I must seek a state of Kel No Reem' in order to get a ride to the base," Jack said, pouring a bowl of Fruity Pebbles.  "Hey, look!  It's the red Magic Spoon!" Jack announced, taking the "Surprise Inside" toy from the box and pulling it from its plastic sheath.   "Sweet!  Now I have the entire set."

The smell of artificial fruit flavors wafted over the table and into Daniel's nose.   The wholesome yet sweetened rice cereal in a variety of nutritious, vibrant colors danced over Daniel's palate and did a tarantella in his intestines.  Daniel pressed his fingers to his mouth.

"Speaking of Teal'c," Jack said, dipping the spoon into the milk.   He pulled the spoon out and observed the Magic color change.  "Cool... Anyhow, speaking of our friend Bubba, there's a matter of his shirt.   Personally, I call it mercy-killing, but you know how touchy Teal'c gets about his western wear," Jack said, scooping up a spoonful of colorful milk-laden cereal.  

Daniel looked away as Jack chomped noisily on the pebbles.  

Jack washed down the cereal with a swig of coffee, followed by a satisfied sigh.   "So, Daniel...not feelin' too good this morning?"

"I think it would be safe to say the Ribbon Device is greatly over-estimated," Daniel told him, carefully resting his head on the table.

"What, a couple of beers, a couple shots," Jack reported.  He watched Daniel groggily lift his head.   "Maybe it was the Buffalo wings..."

Daniel slunk down in his chair, covered his eyes with a shaking hand and tried to go to his happy place...

Jack snapped his fingers.  "You know, I bet it was the Chicken McNuggets..."

Daniel flew out of his seat with laser quickness and sprinted down the hall.

"Are you lactose-intolerant?  I didn't know that when I bought you the milk-shake," Jack apologetically called down the corridor.  He listened while Daniel became much, much better acquainted with the plumbing.   

Jack winced.   Jack grimaced.   Jack drank his coffee and ate his Fruity Pebbles.

*****

"Daniel, we're about to embark on a mission unlike any we've ever attempted--infiltrate an after-hours establishment at ten-hundred hours with only our cunning and a few well-chosen business cards," Jack told Daniel, paying the cabbie.   Daniel dragged himself out of the back seat, trying not to touch anything.

"I'm a civilian, Jack.  I'm not the one who'll get court-martialled," Daniel reminded him, pulling the jacket's collar around his ears.

"True, but you they'd hang for treason," Jack said, banging on the door of the building.

"Maybe if I begged, they'd do it right now," Daniel groaned while the sidewalk undulated beneath his feet.

Jack took stock of the greenish tint to Daniel's pallor.  He was not mission-ready.  Jack would have to go Delta on this one.  "Daniel, why don't you go wait by the truck.  If I need..."

"Good idea," Daniel said, turning slowly from Jack.  He began to walk, then run to the truck.  Jack rolled his eyes and made a mental note not to include Daniel again in "guy stuff."

Jack banged on the door once more.

"What?" came the surly voice from behind the door.  A jaundiced eye scanned the outside from a peek hole.

Jack straightened his Air Force hat and pulled his ID out of his pocket.  "Colonel Jack O'Neill.  United States Air Force," Jack said, letting the eye examine the identification.

"So?" the gravely voice said.

"I have orders to retrieve some articles of clothing and a truck from your property," Jack told him, returning his ID to his back pocket.  "They belong to a high-ranking officer who would rather keep this...fiasco out of the press."

The door swiftly opened.   "Oh, yeah?   High ranking?"

"Yes, sir.   May I?" Jack asked, motioning toward the door.

"Yeah, sure," the greasy little man said, holding the door.  Jack walked in.

"This is a sensitive topic, as I'm sure you can understand," Jack told the man.   "Matter of national security and all."

"Oh, sure.   You don't have to tell me," he said, leading Jack through the lobby to the back stage.   Jack pulled his hat low on his face in case any wrestlers were in the house.  "So, this officer...he left his clothes here?"

"Yes, he did.   A pair of suede oxfords, a tan shirt, a brown barn coat," Jack reported.  

"Well, if it's still here, the girls woulda stashed it in this garbage can.   Keeps it away from the jello and all," he sensitively added.  Jack offered an appreciative nod.  The man lifted the lid and let Jack snoop around.  He pulled up Daniel's shoes, shirt, coat and wallet, and left, surreptitiously, a business card.

"That oughta do it, sir," Jack said, wrapping the articles in Daniel's coat.   "Now, there's a matter of this officer's truck.  I can have the police come down here..."

"No!   I had enough of the cops last night!" the frightened little man said.

Jack pushed his hat back and scratched his forehead.  "Well, I guess I could...Tell you what.  Let me make a call."  Jack pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number in front of the sweating owner.   Jack smiled at him while the phone rang.

"Yes," Teal'c's said on the other end.

"Ah, yes, General.   This is Colonel O'Neill," Jack boldly stated.  The little man's eyes lit up.

"You are mistaken, O'Neill.  This is not General Hammond's line."

"I am aware of that, sir," Jack said. "Sir, I am here at the establishment in question and would like authorization to remove the...officer's vehicle from the parking lot."

"O'Neill.   Is it not your own truck?" Teal'c asked.

"That is correct, sir," Jack told him.  Jack winked at the fully-engaged polyester-clad man.  "Yes, sir.  Certainly, sir.  I'm sure the owner would like to talk to you, as well," Jack said.

"I said nothing of the kind, O'Neill," Teal'c said.

Jack handed the phone to the owner.  "He would like to personally extend his apologies for the situation."

The chain smoker nervously grabbed the phone, brought it to his ear and cleared his throat.   His cigarette never left his lips.   "Uh, hello?"

"To whom am I speaking?" Teal'c growled

"Marvin Kramer," the quaking man said, staring at Jack.

"Mr. Kramer, please accept my sincerest apology for any inconvenience my subordinates might have caused in your place of business.  I assure you, they shall be severely punished."

The ash fell from the cigarette.  "No problem, General."  He handed the phone to Jack and sat down.

"So, I'll retrieve the colonel's..." Jack slapped his head and hissed.   "I mean, I will retrieve the officer's vehicle and return to base ASAP, sir."  Jack rolled his eyes, feigning embarrassment.

"I shall await your return, O'Neill," Teal'c said in a murderous rumble.

"Yes, sir.   Thank you, sir."   Jack clapped shut his phone and placed it back in the pocket of his blue coat.  "Okay, so, if you could just open the gate to your parking lot, I'll be on my way."

"Sure!   You bet!  Anything for you boys in blue," the twitching man said.   Jack thought about telling him that boys in blue were cops, but decided that would take time.

"You're a patriot and a gentleman, sir," Jack said, shaking his hand.

The owner's eyes welled up with tears as he pressed the button that opened the gate.   Jack tipped his hat to him and strode out the door.

The owner watched Jack get into the truck and slide behind the wheel, and then the little man scurried over to the garbage can where he retrieved the business card that had fallen from the procured wallet.

"Colonel Frank Simmons," the fascinated little man read.  "Oooh, and he's from DC."  He shivered with excitement.  "Bambi, get a load of this!"  he yelled, waving Colonel Simmons' card in the air.

*****

"Colonel O'Neill, do you have a minute?" General Hammond asked, stepping outside his office to intercept Jack.

"For you, General?   Yeah, okay, I guess," Jack said, entering his CO's office.

General Hammond sat down behind his desk and opened a folder.  "Colonel, since Major Carter is taking some time off, and Doctor Jackson is involved in a long-term translation project, I have decided to loan you out for a few days."

"Sir?   Loan me out?   Didn't know the Air Force had decided to turn into a rent-to-own outfit," Jack said.

"This is only a few days, Colonel.  You'll be working on a project called Operation: Quickset," General Hammond told him, reading the title from off the mission sheet.

Jack felt a coy smile of understanding spread across his face.  "Operation: Quickset.  Sure."

"You will be working in conjunction with the Academy.  This mission is to instruct potential recruits on the importance of teamwork in a combat situation," the general explained.

"You're saying I'm going to need to teach them how to gel as quickly as possible?" Jack asked, eyeing the general with suspicion.

"Precisely.   You'll only have two days, so you'll need to whip them into shape, Colonel."

Jack felt a crack form in his expression.

The general sat back and tented his fingers.  "Normally, I wouldn't offer your services like this, but after wrestling with this decision last night..."

Jack chuckled.

The general stared at Jack momentarily, wondering if his 2IC shouldn't possibly be taking time off with Major Carter.  He decided to press on.  "As I was saying, I don't like the idea of sending one of my best men on a fluff detail, but I think you'll do a fine job to mold these new..."

Jack guffawed and pressed his hand over his mouth.

"Colonel, what the hell is going on?" General Hammond demanded.

Jack straightened up, pressed his lips together and shrugged.  "Sorry, sir.  Allergies.  Aaack!" he coughed.

"I've asked Doctor Jackson to join you for a few hours at the academy to talk about taking a few shots for the sake of the team."

Jack felt the overwhelming urge to become apoplectic rising in his chest.

The general continued.   "I'll be putting in..."

"Did you say 'pudding,' sir?" Jack asked with an incredibly restrained voice.

"Colonel, do you need to make a trip to the infirmary?  Or perhaps Mental Health?" General Hammond growled.

"No, sir.   I'm fine, sir."   Jack bit the side of his cheek to keep from laughing anymore.

General Hammond stared at Jack with a mixture of concern and irritability.   Finally, he pressed on.  "Because this operation is such short notice, you'll be going in with only what you need to get by."

"Let me guess--the bare necessities?" Jack muttered, hardly able to contain the giggles just dying to set sail.

"That's right.   This is going to be a fairly stripped down mission," General Hammond said before Jack doubled over laughing.

"I can't take it anymore!" Jack cried, holding his stomach.   "Oh.  Oh.   Listen, I don't know who put you up to this, sir," Jack laughed, wiping tears from his eyes, "But, really, faboo job!  First rate!   Oh, god!"   Jack got up to leave the office.

"Colonel O'Neill, I'm not finished!" the senior officer incredulously stated, rising from his seat.

"Oh, that's right," Jack said.  He raised a salute to the general.  "Permission to desert this office.  Or should I say 'dessert'?"

"Just get the hell out of here!" General Hammond ordered.  "And report to the infirmary!"   He heard Jack laugh hysterically all the way down the hall.

*****

"Alls I'm sayin' is you should drink some juice, that's all," Jack said as he and Daniel walked into the empty briefing room.

"My GI system is on general strike today, Jack.  I don't think introducing any sort of nourishment or fluids at this time would be in my best interest," Daniel told him, carefully sitting in one of the high back chairs.

"When's the last time you...you know?" Jack ask, puffing out his cheeks, mimicking the act of regurgitation.

Daniel covered his eyes to block the revolting sight.  "Not for a couple hours."

"Then you're done.   Time to eat," Jack said, munching on a jelly donut.

"How...how can you possibly...which brings up a different question: how is it you're not hung over?" Daniel asked.

"It's called being a pro," Jack haughtily told him.

"It's called being a lush," Daniel told him back.

"So anyhow," Janet said, entering the room with Sam.  The two women were deep in conversation.  Sam listened to Janet with a look of horror and concern.   "When I removed the dressing, I couldn't believe my eyes.  The pus was just _oooooozing_ out."

Daniel ripped his glasses off his face and covered his eyes.

Sam sat down next to Daniel.  Janet sat on the opposite side of him.  "Oh, my god, Janet.   Infection?" Sam asked.

"Severe infection.   And not just oozing--it was bright yellow with streaks of green," she said, emphatically.   

Daniel began to rock in his chair, his head lowered, trying with every fiber of his body not to listen to the conversation that volleyed across him.

Jack sat back and enjoyed the scene.

"It had to be as big around as my fist," Janet said.  "And the smell!"

Daniel covered his ears and began chanting, "I'm not listening.  I'm not listening."

"Yeah?   It smelled bad?" Sam asked, tapping her pencil loudly against the table.

"Aaack, like...well...you know how rancid chicken smells?   Especially when you leave it for a couple weeks in your garbage can during the summer?  Add a dirty baby diaper to the mix, and that's how it smelled," Janet summed up.

Daniel was out the door before the final description passed over the table.

"Something I said?" Janet innocently asked.

"I think Daniel has a touch of the flu," Sam told her.

Jack harumphed.   "Right.   Flu."

"The flu is going around.  Maybe I should go help," Janet said, rising from her seat and leaving the room.

Sam remained in the room with Jack, who looked at her with new respect.  She furrowed her brow and frowned.

"What?"

Jack coyly lifted an eyebrow and half-smiled.  "I'm impressed, Carter."

Sam looked cautiously around the room.  "I...I don't know what you're talking about, sir."

"Ah, yes.   Maintain plausible deniability.   Glad to see the good example I've set hasn't gone unnoticed," Jack told her.

"Sir, if you're referring to Daniel's departure as the result of some grand scheme that Janet and I cooked up, I hate to tell you--you're wrong," Sam told him.

A young woman entered the room and addressed the two officers staring at each other.   "Colonel O'Neill.   Major Carter.   General Hammond asked me to tell you he'd like to postpone the briefing until sixteen-hundred.  He's accepting a phone call and is unable to make the scheduled briefing time," Lieutenant Pawley said from the doorway.

"No sweat," Jack responded.  The young lieutenant turned from the room.  Jack stood up, knocked his knuckles against the table and smiled at Carter.   "Proud proud proud, Carter."

"Respectfully, sir--whatever," Sam said, leaving Jack at the door.

Jack dug his hands into his pocket and decided to find the ailing archeologist.   He whistled a happy tune as he made his way through the halls.  

When he turned the corner, Jack almost ran into Janet and a young geologist who she was guiding toward the infirmary.  The man held a hand to his stomach and one to his mouth.  His forehead was dotted with beads of sweat.

"Make way, Colonel.   We've got another..."

Before she could finish her sentence, the poor scientist lost his lunch at the feet and on the feet of Colonel O'Neill.  Jack tried to jump out of the line of fire but to no avail.

"God!" he scowled, dancing around the newly formed puddle.

"Oh, dear," Janet sighed.

"I'm so sorry, sir," the young man apologetically whimpered.

"That's...don't worry about it," Jack ruefully said, gagging at the sight of his grotesquely outfitted footwear.

"Uh, Colonel.   I have to get Doctor Baker to the infirmary.  Could you...would you mind making sure no one...well, steps in this?  I'll call maintenance as soon as I get this soldier into a bed," Janet called back while she whisked the ailing man to the infirmary.

"God!" Jack protested.

"Colonel?   You feeling all right?" Major Barrett asked, passing Jack.

"Not me!   Not my...puke," Jack futilely offered the passerby.

Jack saw Teal'c approaching from down the corridor.

"Teal'c, hey, buddy!  Could you do me a solid and call..."

"I did not wish to speak to MarvinKramer, O'Neill," Teal'c told him with a smoldering glare.

"Yeah, Teal'c.   That was a joke.   Look, could you call..."

"You placed me in a most uncomfortable position."

"I kinda know what you mean," Jack stated sardonically, gesturing to the mess at his feet.   

"Indeed," Teal'c said, continuing on his way.

"Come on, Teal'c!   Call maintenance for me, would ya?" Jack called down the hall to a deaf Jaffa.  

The stench of the vomit began to permeate his nose.  Jack tried to wave away the awful smell.  

"First my hat, then my coat.  Now my boots.   It just sucks being my clothes," Jack said as he lifted one then the other boot.

*****

"He lost it?  All over the colonel?!" Sam asked, laughing.

Janet smoothed her napkin over her lap, nodded, and continued.  "Poor kid.  He's still afraid he's going to be up on charges."

"But he couldn't help it," Sam said, wiping away tears from her eyes.   "Colonel O'Neill just happened to be in the wrong place at the..."

"Right time," Janet said, peering sidelong at Sam.  A churlish smile began to form on her face.

"Oh.   Oh, you didn't," Sam said, beginning to understand.

"Doctor Baker can hold an astonishing amount of creamed beef and split-pea soup in his mouth," Janet said.  "To say nothing for the taste that must have produced."  

Both women shivered in horror.

Sam shook her head laughing.  "How on earth did you get..."

"Let's just say I can be very discreet about the scrips I write for some of these younger personnel, but that I keep track of how many markers I have out there," Janet secretively  replied.

"You blackmailed him?" Sam asked.

"No!   That would be against regulations.   Actually, I bribed him.   I offered him to set him up with one of my assistants.  That and I gave him fifty-bucks," Janet said.

"Worth every penny, I'd say," Sam admitted.

"Oh, here comes our favorite scientist," Janet said, lowering her head and peeking at the door from behind Sam.  Sam turned to see a stiff Daniel walking into the mess, grab a cup, and stand in front of the huge silver coffee carafes.

A rumbling began from a back table.  

Daniel obliviously continued to fill his cup.  

The rumbling grew louder...

"Watch it wiggle, see it jiggle.  Smooth and fruity.   Jello brand gelatin..." the group sang in unison, their heads down.  Soon, the entire mess hall joined together to serenade the mortified doctor.   "Of all desserts you'll love the one that tastes so right and makes such fun.  Make Jello brand gelatin and...make some fun! J-E-L-L-O!!" style='color:red'>

Daniel never turned around, only lifted his head bravely and lowered his cup to the counter.

The crowd became silent.

Daniel slowly walked to the doors of the cafeteria, swung them open and stoically began   to leave the cavernously silent room.   

"O'Neill's a dead man," Daniel stated with what was left of his rapidly diminishing pride 

While the doors flapped back in place, the cafeteria remained silent.

Daniel was ten yards away when he heard the explosion of laughter, hooting and applause.   He clenched his jaw and pulled in a long, shuddering breath through his nose.

"I'll kill him.   No, first I'll hurt him, then I'll kill him," Daniel schemed as the humiliating sounds grew dimmer.   "No, that would be too good for Jack.  First I'll hang him by his ankles, dip him in a vat of jello and let it dry.   No, he'd probably enjoy that.  Okay.  Okay.   I'll just kill him..."

*****

"Daniel!"

"Jack..."

Jack sauntered up to Daniel and clapped him on the shoulder.  "How ya feeling?"

"Besides the mortifying moment at the hand of the entire SGC I just experienced?" Daniel angrily enquired, staring at Jack.

"This would require question three from the 'Questions for Daniel' list:  What the hell are you talking about?" Jack asked, bug-eyed.

"How can you stand there and pretend you have no idea what I'm talking about?!" Daniel yelled, throwing his hands in front of him.

"Because I'm talented that way!" Jack yelled back.  

"That was... I mean, really, Jack.  That was...and to think..." Daniel sputtered, pacing furiously in front of Jack. 

Jack shook his head and tried to understand the scattered accusations coming from Daniel.   "Daniel! Stop!   Just tell me what's going on?"

Daniel stopped, pressed his fists onto his hips, curled his lips around a word, growled, and tried for another word.

Jack squeezed Daniel's cheeks with one hand.  "Speak, Daniel!"

"La ca-wa-dee-wee-ya?" Daniel growled.

"What?" Jack asked.

Daniel smacked Jack's hand away.  "The cafeteria, and don't try to tell me you had nothing to do with it!"

"Okay, I won't try to tell you I had nothing to do with it," Jack said.

Daniel took a deep breath.  "Thank you, Jack."

"I'll just **flat out** tell you I had nothing to do with it!" Jack exclaimed.   "I've been too busy standing over Baker's puke to do anything for the last 20 minutes.   Why?  What happened in the canteen?"

"I was the sole audience member at a performance.  It's not important," Daniel said, rubbing his temples.    "Wait.  Did you say Baker?"

"Yeah, the stupid rock-monger.  He booted all over my...well, boots," Jack morosely told Daniel.

"But I just saw Baker not five minutes ago, and he was fine," Daniel reported.

"He can't be.   I coulda sworn I saw some of his lower intestines in there," Jack told him.

"Jack, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Daniel peevishly asked Jack.

"Possibly.   Possibly.  No."

Daniel rolled his eyes.   "Look, what if Baker wasn't really sick?"

"Okay..."

"Who would set something like that up, plus have the means to teach 100 people the words to an old TV commercial?"  Daniel asked.

Jack closed his eyes to think.  Daniel crossed his arms across his chest.

"Carter," they said together.

"She has motive," Jack stated.

"And opportunity," Daniel added.

The two men began to walk purposefully down the hall, fueled by anger.

"She is so dead!" Jack growled.

"She doesn't know who she's messing with!" Daniel protested.

"Where are we going?!" Jack angrily demanded.

"I don't know!!" Daniel loudly stated.

*****

Sam walked into her lab and turned on the lights.  She closed the door and reached for her lab coat.

"Oh, Sammykins," Daniel called out in a sing-song voice.

Sam spun around and searched the room for him.

"Daniel?" she said.

"And his little friend," Jack replied.

Sam heard her door lock.   She tried to pull it open.

"Okay, you guys," Sam said, smiling.  She put her hands inside her lab coat.  "What's going on?"

"You got some splainin' to do," Jack's voice was heard to say.

"Look, wherever you guys are, I think I deserve an explanation," Sam called into the empty room.

"I don't know, Jack.  Should we give her the benefit of the doubt?" Daniel said over the intercom.

"That turncoat?   Nah!" Jack growled.

"Really!  You guys.   I don't have a clue!" Sam stated, picking up a Bunsen burner for protection, thinking better of it, and replacing it on the lab table.

"Sure you don't," Jack said, sarcastically.

"We believe you, Miss Choir Director," said Daniel.

"Oh, that.   Look, I...I was as surprised about that as you were, Daniel," Sam tried to explain.  "I was just sitting having my lunch with Janet, when..."

"Speaking of Janet, just who set her up to lead Baker around the halls looking for a target in the shape of my feet?!" Jack questioned in a surly tone.

"That was definitely not me!" Sam pointed out.

"And what about that gruesome explanation of...of..." Daniel stammered and choked.

"You want I should take it from here?" Jack's voice was heard to ask.   A moment of silence passed before Jack continued.   "Where was he?"

"Gruesome explanation," Sam said, rolling her eyes.

"Right!   Was it just coincidence that you and the Doc decided to discuss the details of the festering, puss-filled ...Daniel, you okay, buddy?" Jack asked.

"Now that was entirely coincidental!  I had no idea she'd get that...Oh.  Wait."   Sam pressed her fingertips to her lips.   "I think I know what's going on here."

"So do we," Jack gruffly said.

"You guys think I did all this?" Sam called up to the speakers.

"We don't think you did.  We know you did," Daniel stated.  There was a strange rustling before Sam heard Daniel's muffled voice say, "I don't want the juice, Jack..."

"Guys?   Stay with me here.   Who was talking about medical procedures?" Sam asked, holding up one finger.

"You and Janet.   See?" Daniel said.   "I think you've stated my case brilliantly."

"Okay, and who was with Baker when he cacked all over the colonel?" she asked, holding up a second finger.

"Janet," Daniel admitted.

"And who--besides SG3, SG4, SG5, 7, 10 and 15--was in the cafeteria when your theme song was performed--and by the way, I had no idea they were going to do that," Sam added, holding up three fingers.

A momentary pause preceeded the admission.  "Fraiser."

"You guys owe me, but I intend to collect on a much more enormous scale than minor practical jokes.  Now, why don't you let me out..."

The lock on her door slowly disengaged.

"Thank you," Sam said, opening the door to see two disgruntled members of SG1 standing in the hall.  "I think we've all learned something here."

"Yeah.   That Fraiser just rocketed to the top of my list," Jack said.

"Actually, Colonel," Janet said, slowly walking toward them, her hands casually in her lab coat.  "I'm not the mastermind of this elaborate plot."

"You have to be," Sam said.  "You told me yourself how Baker..."

"No.   What I told you is how he did it.   I didn't tell you why I did it," Janet corrected Sam.

"What possible reason could you have to make our lives miserable for the last two hours?" Daniel incredulously asked.

"Oh, Doctor Jackson, how much time do you have?" Janet said, shaking her head.

Jack and Daniel winced.   Daniel decided to rephrase the question.  "Okay.   But how...why...?"

"Daniel.   Jack.  Sam.  I am merely a willing pawn in this strange little game.  My motivation is secondary to my mission," Janet told them.

"And what was your mission," Jack asked.

"Let me ask you something, team," Janet began.  All three crossed their arms over their chests and leaned back on one foot.   Seeing how ridiculous they must look, nervously each took a decidedly different stance.  "Who do you know who has an encyclopedic knowledge of television, in particular commercials?"

The three looked at each other, sharing glances of mild to extreme confusion.

"Hello!!" Janet called out, tapping each of them on the forehead.   "Teal'c!"

"Oh," they said, nodding their heads in understanding, followed by a perfectly timed, "What?"

"That is correct," Teal'c stated, rounding the corner.  "Today, I have settled all debts."

"What debts?" Jack asked.

"I have gained payment for the loss of my shirt," Teal'c said, staring at Daniel.

"Yeah, about the shirt..." he started.

"And I have also received my revenge, distasteful to a Jaffa as that is, for having had to speak to...MarvinKramer," Teal'c turned his attention and one eyebrow to Jack.

"Yeah, but you were beautiful, T.  Really, just...um..."  Jack dropped his head apologetically.  "Sorry."

"There!   Are you satisfied, you two?" Sam said, addressing Jack and Daniel.  "Don't you think you have something to say?"

Jack looked at Daniel;   Daniel looked at Jack.   They looked at Sam.

"Like maybe, 'Sorry, Sam'?" she cried.

"Oh," they said in unison.

"I'll take that as an apology," Sam said, rolling her eyes.

"But I still don't understand how you got pulled into this, Janet," Daniel said.

"Remember a couple weeks ago when I needed a babysitter for Cass, and none of you had the time?" she said, using her 'shame on you' look that she had carefully cultivated through years working with this team.  "Well, Teal'c here was the only one who was kind enough to help me out.  I owed him one, and today he took me up on it."

Jack leaned toward Daniel.  "I had no idea he could get so pissy."

Daniel never took his eyes off the Jaffa.  "Apparently he can."

"Now, Daniel, why don't you come to the infirmary with me.  I'll set you up with some anti-nausea drugs," Janet said, just as Daniel's beeper went off.

The color, at least what was left of it, drained from Daniel's face.  "Simmons is here."

"Well, come on with me, and we'll get some fluids in you," Janet said, taking Daniel by the sleeve.

"If I drink any juice, it's just going to end up..."  Daniel thought carefully about the consequences of vomiting into the lap of Colonel Simmons.  "You know, make it orange juice.  The more acidic the better.  Lots of pulp.   You have any pickles in the infirmary?" Daniel asked, following the doctor.

"So, Bubba.   You get it out of your system?" Jack asked.

"I have indeed," Teal'c answered, leading the two down the hall.

"Oh, one last thing," Jack said, stopping Teal'c.  "How did you get the General to play along?"

"I do not know what you're talking about," Teal'c told him.

"Come on!   Operation:Quickset?   A stripped-down mission? Daniel takes some shots?  Nothing?"   Jack asked.

"I am unaware of this mission," Teal'c said.

"Pudding?"

"No, thank you."

Jack dropped his head to his chest and shoved his hands into his pockets.  "Well, take a look."

Sam and Teal'c glanced at each other and then back at Jack.  "Take a look at what?" Sam asked.

"My ass.   Because Hammond's about to chew it off," Jack told them, walking toward the general's office.

"You still owe me," Sam yelled down the hall.  Jack threw her a wave over his shoulder.

Sam bounced on her toes while the Jaffa stood impervious, his hands behind his back.

"Guess that leaves you and me, Teal'c."

"Indeed it does."

"What next?"

"I have heard of a place that sells items of fetish-wear," he told her.

Sam's jaw dropped open and she stared at him, horrified.  Finally, she regained her senses and asked, "You got an address?"

**The wiggley, jiggley end.**

  


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> Happy Birthday, Annie!...a couple months late...And thanks for working on your own present. Gees, some friend I am! Thanks to Sazz for her insights and Shanilka  
> for the words to the Jello song. This story wouldn't be complete without the suggestions from Sarah--poor dear. Have you recovered yet?

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> January 7, 2002 Stargate SG1 and its characters are property of Stargate (II) productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money was exchanged. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations and story are property of the author. This story may not be posted anywhere else without the consent of the author.

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